


Making Use of Every Excuse

by twitchtipthegnawer



Series: Overwatch Oneshots [15]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dry Orgasm, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reverse Cowgirl (Sex Position), Sex Toys, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8697772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: Genji is a very good example of an alpha. He’s bold, and brave, and headstrong. Even if he’s been putting those traits towards more productive things since meeting Zenyatta, they’re still true. So he’s a bit surprised when the omega he most wants, of every single one he’s met, is a hulking German man with a voice Genji needs to feel rumbling between his legs.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [potatopotato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatopotato/gifts).



> Commission for the wonderful potatopotato, who gave me several awesome Genji/Reinhardt prompts and an incredible amount of creative freedom with this. Hopefully you like it /)u(\ Special thanks to meownnaise on tumblr, my other patron.

When Genji found out that Reinhardt was an omega, it felt a bit like a punch straight to the dick. A very, very sexy punch to the dick. He may have needed to lock himself in his bunk for a couple of hours.

Because Reinhardt was patently not what most people thought of as a typical omega. He was huge, and broad, and bearded and loud and generally _masculine._ Genji didn’t have a problem fucking men, but he’d never been with anyone who looked anything like Reinhardt.

Maybe it was just his prolonged period of chastity. Ever since the confrontation with his brother, Genji hadn’t been able to imagine having sex again. There was something about his body itself being a weapon that sent chills up his spine. More than the scarred flesh, the thought of shuriken embedded in his very arms kept him from pursuing anyone.

But Reinhardt looked… impenetrable. As if nothing could hurt him. Genji knew it wasn’t true, could see the blind eye and scar as easily as anyone, but still.

Nothing had come of it, in the end. Reinhardt was so much older, and for all his attraction Genji had bigger things to worry about at the time. Hell, he’d spent so much of his time angry, he wasn’t even sure he could’ve actually enjoyed the sex.

And then Overwatch had disbanded, and Genji had, by and large, forgotten about the whole thing. He’d been focused on healing, and then on finding his brother.

It wasn’t until he’d met up with everyone after the recall that he remembered. Even then, he might’ve gone on remembering Reinhardt primarily as that weird, nice, older man. Except that something wholly unexpected happened.

He’d been eating breakfast, minding his own business, when Reinhardt walked behind his chair, and--

“Genji? Is something wrong?” Brigitte, bless her sweet beta soul, seemed completely confused as to why Genji had just spewed orange juice over the table.

“I, ah,” Genji coughed, then thumped a hand against his chest. Not that it helped, with that _smell_ filling the air.

Luckily, he was saved from having to answer when Angela took a deep whiff, and then looked even more deeply embarrassed. “Reinhardt, love, are you in, ahem.” Lowering her voice and leaning closer, she said, “ _heat?_ ”

There was a moment where it was all Genji could do not to start hyperventilating. Reinhardt smelled _divine,_ but in the silence of the kitchen everyone would notice if Genji did anything to weird. Then it was shattered by Reinhardt’s low voice, more serious than normal.

“Damn, sorry,” he said. “I thought I was done with these. I haven’t had one in a year.”

“Oh, no worries,” Angela replied. Genji wanted to know how she could be so damn calm about it when she was _right next to him._ “Getting suppressants is so difficult when you’re traveling. But you might, ah, want to hole up in your room for a few days?”

At the last sentence she gave Genji a pointed look, and he realized he’d just been sitting stock still with orange juice on his scarred face for the entire conversation. Hastily, he grabbed at napkins to clean up the mess. Brigitte didn’t bother stifling her laughter.

“Yes, yes,” Reinhardt said. He actually… didn’t look that good. His shoulders were hunched a bit, and his flushed cheeks looked more sickly than alluring. Genji almost felt bad.

When Reinhardt left to follow Angela’s advice, though, Genji couldn’t tear his mind away from the thought. Reinhardt in heat. Reinhardt in possibly one of his last heats ever.

“Genji,” said Angela. He shook his head sharply and looked at her, as if he hadn’t been spiraling dangerously close to fantasizing. “Would you be so kind as to bring Reinhardt some food? He’ll need it.”

“Of course,” Genji replied. His voice was mechanical enough that it didn’t sound entirely choked.

He took the tray Angela handed him, and honestly intended to bring it directly to Reinhardt’s bunk. But he had to walk directly past his room to get there, and, well… It would take a stronger man than him not to take a pit stop.

Knocking on Reinhardt’s door, Genji fought to stop himself from fidgeting. He’d been feeling more settled since spending time with Zenyatta, but something about Reinhardt made him feel like a hot-blooded kid again. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the door to slide open.

Reinhardt looked surprised when he saw Genji stepping in with food, but it quickly gave way to gratitude. “Thank you,” he said. “I was just about to call Brigitte and ask her to bring something. It’s downright rude, how quickly these things come on.” He made to take the tray from Genji’s hands, but Genji couldn’t seem to make himself let go.

“I brought you,” swallowing hard, Genji nodded his head towards the bag hanging from his shoulder. “Something else that might help.”

\----------

Twenty minutes later, and Genji was kind of getting headrush. It was partly because he was currently holding a remote in his hands, and when he turned it up, the sweetest sounds he’d heard in a while spilled from Reinhardt’s throat.

“P-please, Genji,” Reinhardt gasped. His voice was a bit muffled, though, and that was the other part of why Genji’s heart was beating like it wanted to escape his synthetic ribcage.

Because somehow, when they’d been discussing how this might work out, Reinhardt had said he didn’t like being pleasured unless his partner was enjoying themself as well. And somehow Genji hadn’t asked for a blow job. Somehow, he’d asked for something he’d never wanted before.

Every time he made the plug inside Reinhardt vibrate differently (it was pulsing now, slow and steady and making Reinhardt’s hips thrust against nothing) the tongue against him stuttered and stalled. Genji _loved_ the feeling.

Grinding his ass back against Reinhardt’s face, Genji tried to find an angle that didn’t make his back ache with tension. It was hard, when he was sitting on the edge of the bed and Reinhardt was kneeling on the floor. God, it felt worth it though. Genji was making all kinds of undignified sounds. He sounded more like an omega than Reinhardt did.

 _”Please,”_ Reinhardt growled this time, low and raspy. His tongue circled the pucker of Genji’s ass, left his skin feeling sensitive and warm and _wet._

Never one to leave a partner wanting, Genji looked down at Reinhardt. At the strong, thick thighs. At the cock that was proportionally smaller than it would be on an alpha his size. Which was to say that he was still big, and Genji had never been interested in bottoming before.

“Would y-you like to fuck me,” Genji asked. One stutter was about the best he could hope for. “I-- Reinhardt, I have wanted this for so _long.”_

His pupils were blown huge. Genji felt like maybe, just maybe, he was taking advantage of him. The heat was almost a tangible presence around them, making the air soupy with thick sweetness. If Genji was nearly drugged on the scent, Reinhardt must be out of his mind.

The remote clicked again, an accident, but it left the vibe rumbling constantly instead of pulsing, and it drew a low cry from Reinhardt’s chest. When he looked back up, there was no question what he’d say. “Yes. Yes, _Genji._ ”

In moments they’d gotten themselves rearranged so Genji was sitting on Reinhardt’s thighs, facing away from him. Reinhardt tried to argue that he wanted to be able to see Genji’s face, but then Genji reached down to twist the base of the plug. He stopped arguing so quickly that Genji felt almost dizzy with power. Or perhaps that was lust.

Rising up on his knees, Genji gripped Reinhardt’s cock firmly and guided it to his entrance, He hadn’t been stretched properly, and Reinhardt was _thick,_ for all that he was shorter than he might’ve been. It burned, and Reinhardt made an alarmed noise and clung to Genji’s hips with his broad, calloused hands, but Genji didn’t slow down.

Seated on Reinhardt’s cock, Genji could feel an ache deep in his belly. Bottoming was strange, and he found himself glad that his body was so much silicone and metal. He and Reinhardt were both built to handle a bit of roughness.

“Liebling, be careful--” Reinhardt started, but he cut himself off with a moan when Genji shifted his weight.

“Oh, I will b-be as careful as necessary,” said Genji. And then he was reaching down again, _carefully_ fondling Reinhardt’s heavy, swollen balls. He tugged them down gently, and was treated to a sound not unlike a sob.

Genji began riding Reinhardt, so slow it was almost torture. He got used to the rhythm of it rather quickly, having been on the receiving end of this kind of treatment so many times. It was difficult to focus on making Reinhardt feel good when the long drag inside him send pleasure shooting up his spine, but he tried.

Then Reinhardt ruined all of Genji’s careful planning by thrusting up, strong and powerful. Genji felt his mouth gape open, his legs go limp, and then Reinhardt was thrusting again. And again.

“Fuck!” Genji groaned as soon as he felt like he could breathe again. “Rein- _Reinhardt._ It feels-- It, ah, s-so--”

“I know,” Reinhardt said. He sounded smug. He sounded in control. He sounded like he was pounding into an alpha’s ass hard enough to make tears slip from artificial tear ducts. “You like being full, liebling? Maybe next time you will be the one with the plug while you _fuck_ me.”

 _God._ Genji was vaguely aware he was babbling some kind of assent, but he couldn’t focus in the slightest. If sex with Reinhardt was this good, he never wanted to stop.

\----------

Minutes had bled into hours. It was Genji’s favorite part of heats, the way time ran together into a single mass of sweat and sex and warmth. And Reinhardt’s heat was _intense._

Still, despite the number of times they’d both come, Genji hadn’t knotted Reinhardt yet. Their necks were stained with dozens of love bites, and cum coated both their bellies in sticky-slick streaks, but he’d only given Reinhardt the toy.

Which made it even sweeter when Genji finally pulled it out, replaced it with his fingers, and heard Reinhardt sigh. “Finally,” he said. “You’ve certainly taken your time.”

Thrusting three fingers up to the knuckle, Genji bit his lip to hide a grin. “My old friend, who said I’m not going to take even more?” Reinhardt’s eyes, hazy and blissed out, took a beat too long to widen.

Relishing the pliance in Reinhardt’s body, Genji spread his fingers wide. He couldn’t get over how loose Reinhardt had gotten, desperate for a cock to fill him. His body was producing so much slick that his thighs were positively _dripping_ with it.

“Y-you tease so much,” Reinhardt moved his hips in a little, circular motion. As if he was begging Genji to find his sweet spot already. “Can you not, _ahhg_ just give me what I want?”

“You’ve kept me waiting for years,” Genji replied. He was shocked to find that it felt true. “You can wait for a few more minutes.”

“What-- _Genji!”_ Fluttering his fingers in an abrupt motion, Genji was pleased to realize he’d pressed directly against Reinhardt’s prostate. He was not going to admit that was a complete coincidence.

After spending another moment teasing Reinhardt’s prostate, Genji leaned down and kissed his navel. “I wonder if I could add a fourth finger?” He said, sounding surprisingly breathless. “Perhaps I could spend your entire heat fingering you open, and never give you my knot.” It was dangerously tempting. He was shocked at his own ability to resist his instincts.

But then Reinhardt growled something in German that Genji would bet money was begging. And he realized that, no matter how good he was at denying himself, he couldn’t deny Reinhardt anything. So he pulled his fingers out with an obscene _squelching_ sound, and slicked his cock with his wet hand.

The relief was heady for both of them. Genji could feel his shoulders slump, his breathing go shaky with the feeling. Reinhardt was silky smooth inside, and Genji’s synthetic cock was exquisitely sensitive.

“Move,” Reinhardt demanded. “Liebling, quickly, _bitte.”_

 _How are you able to speak already,_ Genji wanted to ask. But words were a bit beyond him at the moment, so he simply gave in to Reinhardt’s wishes again.

Of course, neither of them were going to last long like that. Reinhardt was clenching tight around him, and Genji hysterically thought, _he’s strong everywhere._ It was just as good as Reinhardt’s tongue opening him up, or his chubby omega cock filling Genji in ways no one else had. It was wet, and warm, and wonderful.

His knot was inflating alarmingly quickly, reducing his thrusts to short, sharp grinds. It was enough for Reinhardt, making his back arch deliciously and his hands claw at the sheets. Genji wanted to bury his face in Reinhardt’s neck and breathe the smell of him, but it was hard enough to breathe already.

They both cried out when Genji came (it wasn’t a _wail,_ he insisted to himself). Thick spurts filled Reinhardt, and for once Genji was profoundly thankful he was sterile. This wouldn’t have been the same through a condom.

Reinhardt followed him over the edge, not so much as a dribble coming from his cock. Genji was rather proud to have wrung him dry, but it also made him eager to give Reinhardt a break and water, just to get started all over again. Just to make his huge omega writhe over him, and under him, and say his name like he was dying for Genji’s cock. Even if Reinhardt never had another heat, Genji would want him again and again.

Catching his breath, Genji settled against Reinhardt, burrowing his face into Reinhardt’s wild hair. He traced the scars on his skin absently, and tried his hardest not to tense when Reinhardt spoke. “Genji, what did you mean? When you said you’ve wanted this?”

It would take a lot of courage, but Genji steeled himself for the confession. He wasn’t about to back out now. And who knew, maybe Reinhardt would be willing to try. He was certainly old enough to settle down with someone.


End file.
